


Running and Falling, Falling and Leaping

by maraudersgirl47



Series: Running and Falling [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Season 4 Episode 12, Smut, Wolf Derek, mentions of other relationships, spoilers up to and including the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/maraudersgirl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, that whole wolf thing wasn't an exaggeration.”<br/>Derek took note that Stiles sounded strained, the normally fidgety boy remaining almost entirely motionless as Derek trotted past him confidently, tail almost inclined to wag with pride at the stunned reaction he’d achieved. Quickly padding up the spiral stairs Derek shifted once out of sight, grabbing the first pair of jeans he could lay his hands on and still dragging a shirt over his head as he headed back down to where Stiles had collapsed himself onto the couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Running. Running had always been something instinctual to him. Always. When he was young he used to run for the fun of it, the thrill of the speeds he could achieve, the familiarity of generally one member of his family keeping track beside him. When he began to get older he learnt about the hunt, still encircled by thrill as he chased something through the surrounding trees. As things changed; school, friends, hormones, he used to run to relieve stress, leaving all his worries beside his house as he would flee into the woods – it was some sense of freedom. It was even after then that he learnt to run for survival. Running, moving with speeds no human could achieve, saved his life more times than he could recall.

Now the motion had changed again. It was more than relief, more than a moment to forget or a leap for freedom.

Running like this was clarity. His four paws beating against the ground with every lope, fur whipping back against his lithe body as he reached an acceleration he had never had any hope of achieving when constricted by his beta form.

Laura had tried to explain it to him once, years ago, somewhere in the midst of their years trying to keep their heads straight, the power she’d felt, the shift in perspective; as hard as his sister had tried, Derek now realized she’d never given the description justice. He doubted whether he’d be able to himself, not that he ever expected to be asked.

The preserve continued to flash past him as he moved seamlessly through the trees. Jumping over the many branches littering the ground around him, swerving through bushes, and even taking the opportunity to race through a few of the lingering puddles beneath some of the less dense canopy, the cool water flicking effortlessly through his fur.  

It had been nine days since there latest, and hopefully last, haul to Mexico. Images of the bleak night still had the instinctual habit of flashing to his mind; the pain the berserker had induced, the feeling of helplessness as he’d yet again known he wasn’t help to the people he cared about, Braeden with tears over him, watching Stiles repeatedly struggle to turn away from him… That image confused him the most, he still feels there was something he missed between everything that had happened over the past few months and that torn look plastered across Stiles’ face –

He shook his head, ears twitching as if to shake off a fly, as he continued to pound across the ground – Mexico, the benefactor, the berserkers, even Kate – that was behind them. Besides, he found it much easier to ignore such images when he was in this form. His senses were keener, sharper, he could focus on whatever he pleased…

Startling a small flock of birds that had taken refuge on one of the lower hanging branches, he knew he took more joy than was sensible watching them all spread their wings and retreat from the threat that he could be if the fancy took him.

As the sun began to sink beneath the branches of the trees and the first hints of the oncoming night air tainted his surroundings Derek veered himself back in the general direction of his loft. Taking a much longer route than was probably necessary, continuing to enjoy the atmosphere.

He arrived around the back of the lofts property, a habit he’d gotten into when he was in this form on the off chance that someone untoward was loitering around the front. He’d nudged his way through one of the lower doors and made his way up the majority of the stairs before he paused, front paw raised mid-step, ears twitching and nose quivering as he acknowledged the sound of a steady heartbeat not far above him.

Having someone occupying the loft had become exceeding rare since returning from Mexico. Braeden had gone with the Calaveras, once again on the hunt for something that would hopefully bring her a decent payout. He didn’t blame her for leaving, had always known she wouldn’t be around forever, but the company had been good and he wasn’t fool enough to deny that he missed her. Peter, of course, got no less than he deserved and was currently safely behind bars at Eichen House. Derek wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to go as far as to say he ‘missed’ his uncle, but he definitely noticed his lack of presence.

Scott had called in twice since there return. Both times he’d been happier than Derek could remember seeing him in a long time. There was an air of relief trailing strongly around him, and it bought Derek calm to know that Scott and the others had escaped there latest drama mostly unscathed.

As Derek drew closer to the loft door, his pace much slower than it had been for the last few hours, a mixed scent of anxiousness and impatience crawled over him. By the time he’d reached the heavy metal he had no doubt about who was undoubtedly pacing a worn track into his floor on the other side. Discovering that even in this form it was possible for him to give a semblance of an eye roll, Derek nudged the weighty door open enough to squeeze through and was immediately met with startled amber eyes.

“So, that whole wolf thing wasn’t an exaggeration.”

Derek took note that Stiles sounded strained, the normally fidgety boy remaining almost entirely motionless as Derek trotted past him confidently, tail almost inclined to wag with pride at the stunned reaction he’d achieved. Quickly padding up the spiral stairs Derek shifted once out of sight, grabbing the first pair of jeans he could lay his hands on and still dragging a shirt over his head as he headed back down to where Stiles had collapsed himself onto the couch.

Derek went to the kitchen to grab a couple of cold cans of soda out of the fridge before making his way over to Stiles. He handed him the second drink even as he began to gulp down his own – running was thirsty work.

Stiles took the can with a nod as Derek sunk into the seat beside him. They both remained silent, Stiles tapping the fingers of his empty hand against the material of his jeans in an erratic fashion. Derek broke the silence after an overzealous movement had Stiles almost spilling his drink on the floor in front of him, “What are you doing here Stiles?”

“What? A buddy can’t come and say hey?”

“What? The first nine days weren’t good enough for you?” Derek hadn’t meant for the bitterness to seep so easily into the question. He hadn’t even been fully aware he’d been subconsciously waiting for Stiles to turn up, now that he had he couldn’t find it to be impressed it had taken so long.

Stiles stood up quickly, setting his can on the table harshly as he moved a few steps away from Derek before turning to look at him. “I’m sorry,” He blurted, sounding panicked. Derek’s brow furrowed, waiting for Stiles’ over quick continuation which he knew would come. “I mean, I know I should have come round but I didn’t want to annoy you, which I know I do, so I kept putting it off and Scott kept saying how you were fine and everything was okay, and Scott’s been so over the moon the last couple of days that I just couldn’t keep prodding him with questions, cause you know that damn hurt puppy look he gets when you derail him with something and I can’t stand it. But I can’t stop thinking about what happened in Mexico and all the shit we had to go through once again, I mean Kate and Peter and we don’t even know what happened to Kate, I mean she just took off, she could be anywhere, right? She could be out there hurting someone else. Like she hurt you and Scott and the rest of us. And oh god – I can’t stop seeing it! All I see is you all crumpled on the ground with the blood everywhere, and your voice was so weak and you were dying Derek, dying! And I just left you there! I mean, _we_ , we just left you there and you’re okay, but what if you hadn’t have been okay? And I know you said go, and you were being serious, of course you were, you’re such a martyr, but I – _we_ – shouldn’t have just left you there. Not after everything. And I just can’t stop seeing it. And god, we almost killed Scott! I mean, they had that so well planned out, they were so close. And you were dying, just like Lydia said – it was like you were already _dead -”_

Derek was on his feet in front of Stiles, catching his wrists carefully to hold his flailing arms still, “Shhh, Stiles, breathe, calm down, it’s okay.”

Stiles was breathing fast and heavy even as his words cut off, his eyes were wide and his heartbeat borderline erratic. Derek was sure he’d been only seconds from having an actual panic attack.

“Breathe,” Derek repeated firmly.

Stiles gave a brief jerk of his head as he took another deep lungful of air.

Derek used the leverage he still had with Stiles’ wrists in his hands to pull Stiles closer to him. Stiles seemed to move willingly, with maybe only a small yelp of surprise, resting easily against Derek’s chest as Derek tucked his chin over that messy mop of hair. Derek only relinquished his hold on Stiles’ wrists to better tuck an arm around his shoulders, quite content when Stiles countered by winding an arm around his waist and curling a fist in his shirt near his hip.

“We’re all okay Stiles. I’m okay.”

“But you were -”

“Stiles,” Derek cut him off, dragging his head back so he could look the minimal distance down into Stiles’ eyes and repeated firmly, “I am okay. You did brilliantly, as always. You helped save Scott and Kira. We stopped Peter and Kate. We’re okay.”

Stiles huffed out what could have been an annoyed breath and shifted back so he was once again resting against Derek’s chest. Derek had the strangest feeling he was trying to listen to his heartbeat, gain some further proof that Derek was alive and well beneath his touch.

Slowly Derek listened to Stiles’ heart rate slow its pace to normal. It wasn’t until he unconsciously run his hand across Stiles’ shoulders that Stiles seemed to really slip away from his panic, “Not that you aren’t a seriously comfortable leaning post dude, but, uh, what’s with the sudden cuddling?”

For a brief moment Derek considered retracting his arms and putting as much space as possible between the two of them, instead he found himself stating, “You haven’t exactly pushed me away.”

Stiles gave a thoughtful hum, his hand still fisted in Derek’s shirt shifting but not pulling away, “I’m savouring the fact that you’re still alive. What’s your excuse?”

Derek could easily hear the usual spirit in Stiles’ tone, his initial stroke of fear that he seemed to have been carrying with him since Mexico morphing into his normal banter, he countered, “I thought I _was_ dead. I’m savouring being alive.”

“With me?” Stiles scoffed.

“Well, the others were busy.”

Derek chuckled as Stiles punched him in the arm, “Jerk.”

“Mm hm,” Derek hummed his agreement, he went to finally retract his limbs back to himself but stopped when Stiles literally clung to him.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” Stiles stated firmly, “You’re exceedingly comfortable. And warm,” he seemed to add as an afterthought.

“Stiles,” Derek said gently, once again prying Stiles away from him enough so he could see his expression.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Stiles muttered. “I know we haven’t really, you know, seen a lot of each other lately, what with the benefactor and your crazy uncle and all, which you’re probably grateful for cause I know how much I get on your nerves -” Stiles stopped short from the rambling tangent he was no doubt about to begin again at Derek’s raised eyebrow, “But, I don’t know, you’re Derek and there’s certain things I’ve come to expect from that and the most important one, obviously, is that you’re the one who always survives. I mean, you always pull through, no matter how bad the shit, and I know there’s been some of like the deepest shit ever, even when we were the ones who were causing – you know what that doesn’t matter. It’s just, ever since Lydia typed your name and it broke the third cypher key, I’ve just been so freaked.”

 Derek couldn’t help the small grin that had spread over his lips, even as Stiles frowned at him, eyes clouding as he defensively asked, “What?”

“It’s just been very quiet these past nine days without you,” the grin not slipping from Derek’s mouth.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Oh ha ha, very funny. It’s not like I’m trying to be serious and nice and stuff.”

“Stiles?”

“Derek?”

“You still haven’t pushed me away?” It came out more of a question than Derek had intended, he was aiming more for a joke as he found his fingers curling gently around the nape of Stiles’ neck. What he achieved instead was a crashing realization that at the same time that Stiles hadn’t pushed him away, he had no desire to allow Stiles out of his immediate reach and was very reluctant for the inevitable moment to occur.

With the pang of hurt that he couldn’t quite explain at the fact that Stiles was going to laugh and turn away from him at any moment Derek was astounded into shock. Stiles was suddenly incredibly so much closer, his entire body seeming to move lightning fast as he was pressed up against Derek once more, hands curling into Derek’s hair, and with a clash of teeth, his mouth moving to press against Derek’s own.

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation (and Derek would wonder about that later) before he was pressing back into Stiles, hands at his waist attempting to drag him impossibly closer as Stiles’ tongue slipped its way into his open mouth to twine around Derek’s.

It hadn’t been long, only seconds, and Stiles was wrenching himself away, finally drawing far enough back to completely break the hold they had on each other, stumbling over his feet as he staggered backwards. “I’m sorry,” Stiles blurted quickly, “I didn’t mean – I mean, I can’t – I’ve got – Derek – holy shit.”

“Stiles -” Derek tried.

“No. I can’t. I’ve got to think. I’ve got to go.” Stiles had already turned on his heel and had hastened so fast across the room that Derek had still barely registered anything that had happened, the phantom feel of Stiles’ lips pressed against his own lingering and seeming to impede his mind.

Just before he reached the door Stiles turned back to look at Derek still standing dumbfounded across the room. His dark hair was a mess, the flannel shirt he had on completely crumpled up one side and his cheeks incredibly flushed, “I really am glad you’re alive.”

And with that he disappeared out the loft door leaving a very confused Derek standing in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first venture into writing anything Teen Wolf related. Tell me if it's terrible? And if there's any tags you think need adding let me know.  
> Chapter two will be up soon and usual musings will hopefully proceed soon after.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles was behind the wheel of his beloved jeep and driving away from Derek’s loft so quickly he couldn’t quite remember how he managed to get down all those stairs. It took the blaring honk of a horn from a car Stiles had just cut off to realize that he was exceeding the speed limit by an alarming amount and calmed himself enough to rectify that situation before one of his Dad’s deputy’s pulled him over.

His breathing was still fast, almost as if he’d just spent his time running for his life (again) and he took a few moments to focus on brining it under control. By the time he felt some semblance of normality around his chest he was only a couple of streets away from home.

Pulling into the driveway Stiles killed the ignition, taking the keys out and giving them a tight squeeze as he continued to stare out the windshield. He couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t believe what he’d done. He’d gone round to Derek’s to talk to the guy, he’d missed the sourwolf’s grumpy face, especially after Mexico’s latest fiasco, so sue him. What he hadn’t planned on doing was almost working himself into a panic attack then inducing Derek’s comfort and somehow along the way deciding it’d be a great idea to make out with the big powerful werewolf. 

He could still feel the lingering press of Derek’s lips against his. Could still recall the haste with which Derek had clung to him and the strength with which he’d held him tight. Stiles would have expected a punch to the face more than what he received.

Eventually Stiles stumbled his way out of the car and into his house, blindly trudging up the stairs and collapsing face first onto his unmade bed. He let out a loud groan into his pillow, the sound muffled even to his own ears against the fabric.

“So things didn’t go well at Derek’s?”

Stiles almost had a heart attack as a voice floated across the room to him, hoisting himself into a sitting position with a lot of haste even as the more rational part of his brain supplied that it was just Malia and not some creature he had to flee from. _Malia_ – Stiles’ stomach gave an unpleasant lurch of guilt. 

“How many times have I said to please use the door and not the window?”

“You weren’t here to open the door. The window was unlocked.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut again without a sound. He couldn’t bring it in himself to even look across at her properly, never mind try and argue proper etiquette. Instead Stiles grasped at the only other viable topic his unhelpful mind could currently supply, “How’d you know I went to Derek’s?”

“You smell like him. Quite a lot actually, stink might be a more accurate description.”

Stiles was regretting his subject choice because he didn’t have an answer for that, especially one that didn’t end with ‘oh you know, it was just some casual making out with your cousin, no biggie’.

“Is he okay?” Malia asked, Stiles could tell she wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to ask but was giving it a shot anyway.

Stiles nodded distractedly, “Yeah he’s great. Fine. You know, he’s good.”

Malia squinted her eyes at him as if trying to see him more clearly, “Did he reject your advances?”

Stiles literally felt like his tongue had lost the ability to work as he spluttered his way around sounds that definitely were not proper words, “Wha- How- I don’- I- uh- no-”

Malia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and seemed to count to five before looking back across at Stiles who was still struggling to regain the use of speech across from her, “Come on Stiles, I may be out of touch with most of the world, granted I am getting better, and I know my school marks still need a lot of work, but I’m not stupid.”

“Malia,” Stiles was impressed he managed the three syllables, “What are you –?”

“I know you like Derek. I know you liked him long before you even met me and I figured one day you’d probably actually do something about it.” Malia held up a hand to stop Stiles from interrupting, “And don’t bother asking how I knew you tried something today because seriously you should smell you. I’m surprised even you can’t smell you.”

Stiles could feel his face burning red, even as he asked, “Why don’t you sound mad? Or why aren’t you trying to kill me? You should be trying to kill me. I’d want to kill me.”

Malia shrugged, “I know people put a lot of importance on cheating or whatever it is you think you just did, but I don’t know, I just don’t see it like that. Maybe I will one day, but at the moment I just understand that you’re really into Derek. And I know you care about me, which is why you’re currently sitting here and not still at the loft probably tearing each other’s clothes off. I just understand.”

“You’re not mad?” Stiles repeated slowly, as if uncertain Malia was somehow misunderstanding the situation.

“No,” she said simply, shrugging again, “I know our time togethers been great Stiles, and I do care a lot about you, but, I just think there’s supposed to be more you know? We’ll still be friends and I’ll miss you as more, but I think I’ll try and find that thing I’m missing. Whatever it may be.” She smiled across at him.

Stiles was on his feet and hoisting Malia out of his desk chair and into a crushing hug, “I can’t explain how much you mean to me.”

She patted him on the back, “I know Stiles, but you still smell like Derek.” He laughed as she subtly pried him off her, “You should go and talk to him.” Stiles grimaced. “What did you do, kiss him and bolt?” Malia’s eyes widened at Stiles’ once again guilt ridden expression, “Oh my god you did.” She whacked him on the arm – “Ow!” – “You’re such an idiot. Go and talk to him. You probably freaked him out.”

“What if he doesn’t – I mean, I’m not sure – uh,” Stiles faltered under Malia’s harsh glare.

“You really are an idiot,” She repeated, “Go. Now. Before I drag you.”

                                                                                                -/-/-/-

Stiles was aware it had taken him an exceedingly long time to make his way from where he parked his jeep to the lofts door. He managed to procrastinate over every step, which he was somewhat impressed was even possible, but, hey look at that, totally a viable option.

Earlier he’d taken the steps almost three at a time, let himself into Derek’s loft even when he was certain the werewolf hadn’t been there – now facing that door once again it felt like the hardest decision he’d ever had to make on what to do next. Should he knock? Should he just let himself in again? Was Derek even still home, or had he gone out? It’s not like he’d be waiting for Stiles to come back or something equally ridiculous. He’d probably left, gone to find Scott or one of the others to complain about how idiotic Stiles was. Probably asking when Stiles developed the presumption of it being okay to go around kissing people.

Before Stiles had come to a decision – knock, open the door, leave – the door slid open with its usual creak in front of him. Derek was standing there, eyes raised, “You ever going to come inside?”

“I was thinking about it,” Stiles muttered, more to Derek’s feet than his face.

“You’ve been out here for more than ten minutes,” Derek stated.

Stiles was glad that Derek didn’t sound angry, impatient maybe, but not mad, as he stepped aside to pointedly let Stiles past. Stiles kept his head ducked down, could already feel his cheeks beginning to burn with embarrassment as he moved further into the loft, “Look, I know I shouldn’t have -”

That was all Stiles got out before there was a hand on his shoulder turning him around and Derek was right in front of him, arm curling round his waist and pulling him close to quickly seal his lips over Stiles’.

It was just as good as the first time, albeit just as quick, Stiles could feel the heat radiate through his body as he sunk into Derek’s strong embrace, working his mouth eagerly to keep up with Derek’s, before he was logically pushing himself away trying to allow his mind to gain some sense of the situation.

Derek allowed him to lean back, not looking overly pleased about it, eyebrow cocked and expression seeming to wait for the flow of excuses Stiles would begin to exude. “I don’t under- shouldn’t we talk about this?”

“We can talk about it later,” Derek said, even as he leaned forward, pressing his nose to the juncture of Stiles’ throat and breathing deeply. “Malia text me, told me you’d probably end up trying to ramble your way out of this.”

“This,” Stiles all but squeaked, “What _is_ ‘this’?”

Derek withdrew himself almost immediately, expression clouded and regretful for the first time, he stepped back, “I’m sorry. I thought – I misunderstood.”

He sounded confused and even hurt, worried he’d screwed something up. Stiles waved his hands as if to flap off the notion, “No, dude, that’s not what I meant. I just – ah, god.” Stiles gave a frustrated huff as he turned away from Derek, striding over to the couch and plonking himself on it much like he had earlier, burying his face in his hands.

Derek followed him slowly and remained standing a few feet away.

“I thought you – Malia said – you kinda -” Derek was muttering in half formed thoughts.

Stiles glanced up between his fingers, “I do.” Seeming to steal himself with that short phrase he dropped his hands and continued. “Obviously dude. I’ve been head over heels for you for ages, I mean who wouldn’t be -” Stiles flicked his hand in Derek’s direction clearly in his eyes proving some kind of point, “But, it was like the Lydia thing all over again, I just learnt to live with it. Falling for people way out of my league seems to be a bad habit I’ve developed. And then we were, I don’t know? I guess you’d have called us friends, at least for a little while there, and then you sort of drifted away again, which understandable I guess, all the shit that’s been happening, but I still missed you and now – and now what? I’m launching myself at you and you’re gonna stand there and say yes? That doesn’t make sense, you don’t – I mean, you wouldn’t -”

Derek laughed softly, silencing Stiles as he walked closer. Stiles watched him hesitantly as he dropped to his knees at Stiles’ feet, leaning his elbows on Stiles’ thighs, bringing them to eye level.

“If I kiss you are you going to freak out again?” Derek asked softly. All he got in return was some non-distinguishable sound from the back of Stiles’ throat before he was leaning forward and kissing him for the third time that day.

It was sloppy with a whole lot of tongue, Stiles seemed to be having difficulty choosing between eager and hesitant as his hands fisted and relinquished through Derek’s hair.

“Is this a dream?” Stiles asked around Derek’s mouth, Derek rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips to Stiles’ jaw. “No, feels too real. Oh god, have we all been spiked with something? Like some kind of supernatural roofies?” Stiles continued to ramble even as Derek made a trail with his tongue up to Stiles’ ear, nipping softy at the lobe before drawing it into his mouth lightly. Stiles’ breath hitched, “You’re not reacting badly to your new wolfie powers are you? They’ve affected your mind? You’re gonna come to your senses any moment and have a meltdown.”

Derek snorted as he pulled back, “Stiles,” Derek run his knuckles along the path his lips had just taken, nudging Stiles’ chin up to keep brown eyes from avoiding his. “Why are you struggling so much with this concept?”

“Because you’re you dude! You and me interacting consists of snark and you threatening to pound me into things -”

“I haven’t done that in forever -”

“Not to mention your type seems to generally be along the lines of badass woman, not hyperactive spaz’s who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut -”

“Stiles -”

“And we haven’t even seen each other lately asides from the life threatening situations, which we should seriously cut down on, cause those are a pain in the ass -”

“Stiles -”

 “And I was meant to be really good at ignoring the fact that I like you. And I have been. Really good at it I mean. Until today -”

“Stiles -” 

“But then you were here and you were alive and okay, technically I knew you were, but I hadn’t seen you and that image of you lying there bleeding out and breathless was ingrained in my goddamn brain, and then you were all ‘oh look I can turn into an actual wolf now’, and that is so freaking awesome you have no idea. And then you were trying to help me and you were all warm and I couldn’t – I didn’t -”

“Oh my god Stiles!” Stiles’ eyes went saucer wide as Derek gave up and fastened a hand firmly over Stiles’ mouth to shut him up, “Can you let me get a word in edge wise here?” Stiles mumbled something against Derek’s palm as if he was still attempting to talk. Derek rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “You’re insufferable.”

Stiles reached up to yank Derek’s hand away, “Exactly!” He exclaimed with too much enthusiasm, “So it makes less than zero sense for you to, you know,” He felt his ears burning, “Like me back.”

Derek was smiling softly, whether at Stiles’ sudden embarrassment or the fact that Stiles finally seemed to run out of words he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, you can be insufferable. And you and everyone who knows you is aware that you use your mouth way too much,” Derek leaned forward to press his lips quickly to the corner of Stiles’ before resting close to his ear as if the next words were not for the empty loft to hear, only for Stiles.

“But you are brilliant, even when you’re running your mouth off. You’re kind and selfless. You’re brave and you’ve made it through scenarios no person should ever be put through never mind a teenager. You’re beautiful and strong, you care about your friends and are willing to do so much to protect them. I want to take you and never let you go. I want to protect you from all of the shit probably still coming our way, even though I know it’d be a pointless endeavour because you just can’t help yourself. I stopped wanting to rip your throat out relatively quickly, probably sooner than you’d realise. You became I constant I couldn’t seem to cope without. I need you Stiles, and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

Stiles’ appeared a mixture between highly embarrassed and quite pleased with himself when Derek pulled back to look at him, “I’ve never - I haven’t done anything.”

Derek kissed him gently, “Yes you have.”

All of Stiles’ hesitation seemed to disappear with that. Whether he believed everything Derek had just told him in what had probably been the most amount of words he’d ever heard Derek string together at once, or if he’d decided he was just going to make the most of the moment, he was reaching for Derek with great swiftness.

With the leverage of Derek’s shirt Stiles hoisted him up and dragged him into his lap, lips eagerly parting for Derek’s tongue to continue its earlier exploration. Stiles moaned into him as Derek curled his fingers through his hair, angling his head for better access.

Stiles almost groaned with loss when Derek withdrew, but it was quickly silenced by Derek’s name falling past his lips as Derek latched into his neck, kissing, sucking and even using his blunt teeth against the pale skin there, which Stiles was positive would hardly need any encouragement for marks to form.

“This needs to come off,” Stiles managed to get out, tugging fruitlessly at the base of Derek’s shirt and beginning to push it up to reveal that wonderfully toned body.

Derek obliged quickly, dropping the unwanted garment blindly behind him before he was kissing Stiles again, Stiles’ hands eagerly running up his chest and around his shoulders to clutch tightly.

When Stiles shifted his lips away from Derek’s along his jaw, trailing his cheek harshly against Derek’s as he went, Derek couldn’t help but moan, imagining the way Stiles’ skin would no doubt be tainted pink later with the burn from his beard. Derek’s wolf howled with trust as Stiles began giving his neck some attention, arching back to allow Stiles closer access that he would never generally allow anyone.

Stiles knew he took Derek by surprise when he grabbed at his shoulders harshly and pushed him to the side, it was only the sense of shock that had Stiles able to have Derek pressed down along the empty side of couch next to them, allowing Stiles to scramble over and straddle his hips. He leaned down quickly over him, seeming unwilling to allow space between their mouths for too long a time.

It was when Stiles ground his hips down with obvious intentions into Derek’s crotch, that Derek was turning his face away, gasping for air and attempting to still Stiles above him.

Stiles frowned down at him, his shirt hanging half off his shoulder from where Derek had been tugging at it so incessantly, “What’s wrong?”

Derek shook his head minimally, “We shouldn’t. We should wait.”

“Relatively sure we’ve been taking it slow enough since we met, Der,” Stiles was already leaning back down to recapture Derek’s lips.

They exchanged a few lazy kisses before Derek pushed Stiles up again, “That’s not what I meant, Stiles. You’re underage.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t give me that crap. You were all gung-ho for this a moment ago -”

“I’m not saying no to anything, I just think we should wait for some of it.”

“I’m so close to being eighteen, I’ve been into you for ages, I know what I’m consenting to.” Stiles stated firmly even as he continued running his hands up along Derek’s sides, which was in itself distracting.

“I know. But you _are_ underage and your Dad’s the sheriff.”

Stiles snorted, sitting up to look down at Derek properly, a smirk around his mouth, “You’re afraid of my Dad?”

Derek huffed, “I’m not overly eager to defile the _underage_ son of a man who not only knows about wolfsbane bullets but actually has the ability to shoot them accurately.”

Stiles was laughing silently, the movement of it shaking his shoulders, as he draped himself back over Derek’s chest, “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

Derek glared even though Stiles could no longer see his face, having latched himself back onto his collarbone. Derek fisted his hands, keeping them firmly beside himself as if to prove some kind of point as Stiles continued to make himself comfortable on top of him. “If you’re gonna refuse to touch me till I’m eighteen that’s absolutely fine dude.” Derek became immediately sceptical, positive Stiles wouldn’t have conceded to something so easily. “Just means you’ll have to lie there and take it.” Ah, there it is.

Stiles had his hands at the fastenings of Derek’s jeans before Derek had properly registered what Stiles meant.

“Stiles,” Derek said warningly.

Stiles raised his eyes innocently, his tone low “You don’t want me to touch you Der?”

And that just wasn’t fair, because that wasn’t what Derek meant and Stiles knew it. He glared up at the young man on top of him. Tyring to be reasonable even with the notion that Stiles clearly wasn’t about to be persuaded, “We shouldn’t.”

Stiles grinned, “Dude, you’re a werewolf. By all normal social standards, you shouldn’t even exist.”

“That’s not a logical argument,” Derek grumbled.

“Too bad, that’s all you’re getting.”

Without any other hesitation Stiles finished pulling down the zip of Derek’s jeans, grinning smugly as Derek helped by raising his hips from the seat beneath him so Stiles could shimmy them down. Derek let out a sigh of relief as his leaking cock was released from the confines of material. Derek looked up to see an exceedingly hungry look clouding across Stiles’ features as he raked his eyes down Derek’s body.

Stiles was leaning down to kiss him again and Derek couldn’t help meeting him impatiently half way. As Stiles curled his tongue around Derek’s he also enclosed his fingers lightly around Derek’s cock, Derek arching into the minimal touch and immediately seeking more. Stiles fisted him slowly, cautiously, seeming to savour as well as explore at the same time.

Derek’s restraint that he’d been logically building up inside his mind about waiting came falling down at an exceedingly alarming rate. He surged up eagerly, hands moving swiftly to divest Stiles of his shirt and toss it aside with about as much care as he’d shown his own. His wolf was howling its approval as Stiles smirked into his mouth, not bothering to hide how pleased he was Derek had caved so easily.

The smile slid off Stiles’ face with a moan, his eyes flickering shut and hand faltering around Derek as Derek rubbed pointedly against that bulge at the front of Stiles’ jeans. “Come on Derek,” Stiles nodded down to him, his tone almost pleading.

Derek hastily manoeuvred them around the couch, moving Stiles underneath him and pressing him down against the cushions as he hastened to slip his jeans and boxers down. Once he had Stiles bare enough he battered Stiles’ still moving hand off of him, grabbing his own cock and Stiles’ and moving them together. Stiles arched up into him, a litany of words that didn’t make much sense trailing from his spit slick lips.

Derek leaned down to seal their lips back together and effectively shut him up. They were panting against one another. Derek could feel the rise within him telling him he was close, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this quick but couldn’t quite bring about the notion to feel ashamed. From the way Stiles was underneath him, his skin on fire and eyes rolling back into his head, he was sure the younger boy wasn’t far behind him.

“Der, I can’t, I’m gonna -” Stiles came with a resounding sound, hands clutching at Derek’s scalp as he pulled him round to kiss him firmly. Derek groaned into his mouth, letting go and adding his come to the considerable mess the two of them were making over themselves.

Derek collapsed carefully, trying not to crush Stiles beneath him as his arms gave out. Stiles was still muttering nonsense beside him, mixtures of ‘wow’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘Derek’ thrown in there.

It took a few moments for the two of them to properly catch their breath. Derek hadn’t been aware that his coated hand had made its way to his mouth and he was mindlessly licking at his digits until he caught sight of Stiles’ stunned face. The smell of the two of them had just been too much to ignore.

Derek felt the tips of his cheeks turn red, misinterpreting Stiles’ gaze for a moment, until Stiles buried his face against Derek’s chest, the words ‘You’re so fuckin’ hot’, floating out to him.

Derek grinned as he wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulders holding him close. “We should move,” Derek muttered reluctantly. “Clean up,” he added, glancing once again at the mess on them and the now stained couch.

“Mmmm,” Stiles responded as if he wasn’t really paying much attention. Stiles hoisted himself up, a look of determination on his face that surprised Derek, “Can you role onto your stomach?”

“What? Why?” Derek asked incredulously, even as he began to move under Stiles’ nudging.

“Just do it, dude.”

Derek pillowed his head onto his arms as he complied with Stiles’ wishes, feeling somewhat concerned as he felt Stiles watching him closely. His initial reaction was to tense before he went boneless as he felt Stiles’ gentle hands tracing the lines of the triskelion tattooed onto his back.

It was relaxing, feeling Stiles so precisely map the lines. However his eyes snapped open when he felt something much wetter than fingers trailing against his skin.

“Stiles?”

“Mm?”

“Are you licking my tattoo?”

Derek felt Stiles pull back, “Totally always wanted to do that,” he could hear the massive grin across Stiles’ face just from his tone.

Derek hoisted himself up from the couch as he tried not to laugh, much to Stiles’ continuous protests. “You’re insane,” he stated, but had to turn away so Stiles couldn’t see the smile stretching across his lips.

“And you love it.” Stiles resonated, bounding up behind him and slinging an arm across his shoulders. Derek leaned across to kiss him, pleased when he pulled back Stiles was still grinning, his eyes shining. “Hey Derek? Can you do the wolf thing?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “It’s not a party trick Stiles.”

“Come on, man. Do the wolf thing!”

“No, Stiles.”

“But it’s so cool! Do it Der, come on.”

“Insufferable.”

“Don’t change the subject. Wolf up.”

“Not happening.”

They argued playfully all the way up the spiral stairs, Stiles giving a shout of triumph even as he was knocked to the ground, Derek’s four paws coming to rest heavily against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was really fun to write. If anyone has any prompt fills they want me to give a go send them to me on here, or at maraudersiriusblack.tumblr.com and I'll give it a shot! (either Stiles/Derek or Dean/Cas preferably)  
> Thanks for the support peeps


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